------ @illblooded !!
slick, black metal rides along the white mantle that covers the once steaming asphalt, in a relay of smooth motions and trained ease. the blaring rumble of a powerful engine reverberates through the streets, forcing many passersby to shield their ears in a vain attempt to block out the noise. even so, those same tormented people can’t help but to stare in awe, though only momentarily, for when they finally look back to gaze at the compelling machine, even if a blatant contrast against the stark white snow, it’s already far from their view.
the mere attempt to catch a glimpse of his pride and joy has his lips curling like the cheshire cat. insu doesn’t have much left from his past -- the nigh fatal crash had taken away his family and friends (and sponsors), and left behind only a warped depth perception. that, and a completely wrecked bike.
the same one currently straddled between his legs, roaring like a proud beast. the black machine is the living proof of sleepless, frustration-inducing nights. a few loyal mechanics had offered their help to bring the bike back to life, but being the stubborn (and prideful) man he is, insu had declined, insisting he would be the one to bring it back from the dead. finding out his so-called team had mindlessly sold the bike to a junkyard only fueled him on. insu hadn’t finished without at least two or three new scars, but he finished.
there’s still room for improvement, but with his bad eyesight, some things aren’t exactly easy to pull off -- some more delicate procedures on the engine have been done only halfway, but insu is still very much persistently latching onto the hope that one day, hopefully sooner rather than later, his vision will return to normal. until then, he’ll refrain from asking for help with his most prized possession.
it’s a decision he’s come to regret a couple of times -- and as he feels the engine whine between his legs, it seems today is no different. with a grumbled curse against the soft padding of his helmet, insu pulls over, not wanting to damage it further by stubbornly continuing to ride. insu pulls off his helmet, the cold wind immediately prickling his skin, adding on to his frustration.
“fucking great...” vapor trails billow from his lips in a heavy sigh, the ones from his bike dissipating as he cuts off the engine. it’s with a forlorn heart that he dismounts from the tall bike, taking his glasses out of his jacket’s pocket and setting them on the bridge of his nose. and dear lord, how he hates them.
“okay, what’s wrong, baby?” the weird glances he earns go right over his head. insu crouches down, hoping the problem is merely superficial. at first glance, everything seems fine, and he’s about to sigh in relief, when smoke begins to suddenly appear from the engine. insu counts to ten, exhaling very, very deeply through his nose. “this... is fine. it’s fine.”
insu can simply walk the bike back to his shop and look it over -- if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s miles away from it, and physical strain is still something that costs his body dearly. simply lifting the bike a few inches would have his midriff screaming in agony. the only solution is asking for help walking back the heavy bike. insu exhales very, very deeply through his nose. glancing around the passing crowd, no one seems too keen on helping -- passing by with just a hastened glance and brisk walk. insu is about to give up when he notices a smaller man not too far from him, his gaze trained on insu’s bike. even if deep down he’s relieved that someone noticed, it’s with a lot of difficulty that he manages to walk over to the guy.
“hey, i’m insu. would...” a pause. insu grits his teeth, closing his eyes for a second. “would you mind helping me? my bike needs repairing.”
the former biker nearly gives himself a pat on the back for such a feat.
